The Empire's Reach
by BigStupidDooDooHead
Summary: A novelization of the events of Sacred Stones, with some expansion of the events. Eirika/Forde, Ephraim/Tana, possibly some others.
1. Chapter 1

**PROLOGUE: The Fall of Renais**

"Your Majesty, I bear bad news."

This was never a good start to the day. Particularly when that day involved one of your closest allies launching a surprise attack.

The young, beardless soldier continued, ignoring King Fado's look of resigned despair. "The castle gate has been breached. Emperor Vigarde's forces are within the castle walls."

Fado already knew this. Magic flared outside the windows, tearing the marble walls of Renais Castle to shreds. Theirs was a garrison that had not faced attack for generations, and they had gotten lax. The screams of dying men made a terrible soundtrack to the day. However, he merely said, "I understand."

"The garrison has fallen. We've lost contact with Prince Ephraim and can expect no aid from his men. Your Majesty, what are we to do?" Sweat beaded on the young soldier's brow.

Fado may have said he understood, but he didn't. How could they have known? The peerless Warrior King of Renais, unable to predict the moves of a fellow warrior. Truly, he had gotten soft with age. "What else can we do? Lay down your arms." The soldier bowed, and hurried out of the throne room to deliver his message. He looked to the other two occupants of the throne room.

General Seth stood by his side as usual, dressed in plain steel armor and boiled leather, hand resting on the hilt of his sword. If the worst came to the worst, he would be able to stand and fight, though he did not know for how long. Eirika, however, was a different matter. The Princess may have had those damnable sword fighting lessons with Ephraim, but there was a difference between the pretty sport of duelling with rapiers and true war. If the soldiers of Grado made it in here, she could not last. It was time to put his plan into action.

"Eirika, are you wearing the bracelet I gave you?"

"Yes, I have it right here." Eirika lifted her slim white arm to him, showing the band of white gold set with pearls arranged in the shape of a crescent moon. "You still haven't told me – "

"There's not time, my child. Just remember this. You cannot let Grado's soldiers get their hands on it. Do you understand?" Eirika nodded slowly. It was plain that she didn't. And really, why should she? It was her ignorance that would keep her safe, at this moment in time.

He turned to Seth. "Seth, take Eirika and head for Frelia. King Hayden is an honorable man. I trust he will keep you safe."

The red-haired paladin nodded. "Understood. And what of Your Majesty?"

"Me? I shall remain here. We have long counted Grado among our dearest allies, yet now they attack? I must know why. Am I somehow responsible for this? Have I erred in my leadership? Renais is mine to guide… how could I have failed her so?" Fado was talking more to himself than to Seth at this point, and the paladin must have known it.

"Father, you can't stay! You mustn't! If you remain behind, then so shall I!" Eirika cried, stepping forward. She was an incongruous presence in the throne room in her short red dress, as compared to the two silent, grim-faced warriors dressed in full plate armor. When she woke up that morning, her heart so carefree, she probably thought it strange that Father had chosen to wear his old suit of armor that day. Truth was, it was rusting to pieces. It was more to look impressive when he met his death than anything.

He didn't have time to argue. "Go now, Seth! Ride! Take her to safety!"

"Forgive me, Your Highness," Seth said tonelessly, before dragging Eirika off to the stables to mount up. Her cries of fear echoed through the hall. Once the two of them were gone, Fado let out a slow breath. It was as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Now, at least, one of the royal line of Renais could survive. But he could not think long before a troop of crack Grado soldiers, dressed in their red armor as usual, marched into the throne room, a motley collection of swords, lances and axes gleaming in the harsh light of noon.

Fado turned to the leader. "A new face among the Grado forces. I don't believe we've had the honor, Sir - ?"

"Tirado. Colonel Tirado, if you feel like being polite, though I have no reason to believe you do." Fado took stock of the man. His armor was enamelled deep red, and covered in pointless gilded edges and a pair of unnecessarily ornate shoulder pads. Those would just get in the way, if it came to a real fight. The gold-embroidered red cloak that he wore looked like it had been woven yesterday. The wicked seven-foot spear that he carried in one hand looked lethal, though. This was particularly true given that it was dripping with crimson gore.

"You killed defenseless men, did you?"

Tirado laughed. "That we did. They lay down their arms right in front of me, what d'you expect is going to happen?"

"I expect you to honor that. Emperor Vigarde should know better than to employ the kind of scum who'd kill an unarmed man."

"Scum, am I? Well, Your _Majesty, _let me demonstrate that to you." The soldier waved a hand carelessly. "Get 'im, boys. Hundred gold pieces for each wound you get on him! Five hundred for whoever gets his head!"

With that said, Fado leapt down from his throne and grabbed the broad-headed, unadorned axe that rested above the throne. It was a little rusty, but it would have to do. The Warrior King would not die peacefully.

A blast of dark magic came from the wall to his left. Fado flinched at that, away from the shards of rubble that flew through the air. If Tirado had snuck magic users into the palace, that could be very dangerous indeed. He ducked behind chunks of rubble, staying one step ahead of the magical attacks, heading towards the door where one of the soldiers stood guard.

The blood of Renais roared through his veins as he let the axe head slide to his hand, then swung the butt end of the shaft up towards his opponent's head. Stunned, the soldier stumbled back, unable to see Fado slashing his throat with the front edge corner.

Fado leapt over the dead body of the soldier and charged down the corridor, energy surging through his body, the soldiers chillingly close behind him. He had to find Tirado. These soldiers were nothing to him.

Soon enough, the sound of hoofbeats came thundering down the red-carpeted corridor. Two cavaliers, their lances levelled at the king, were bearing down on him. _Horses in a castle? Now there's a… novel tactic. _Fado, with hardly any time to think, ducked into a doorway, barring it with his weight. He found himself in a small stone antechamber, bare of any decoration. A fitting metaphor, he thought, for how he would die. Alone and unmourned. The sound of swords hacking at the wood of the door echoed through the room.

"No. Let me." Tirado. Fado backed away from the door, getting into a fighting stance. It would be worth it. Even if the Grado soldier slew him where he stood, it would be worth it. "Come and get me!" he bellowed, as Tirado kicked down the door with his heavy boot.

Feet planted firmly apart, body thrust forward, Fado came face to face with Tirado. He leapt forward, swinging his axe in a broad horizontal arc that would have cleaved an unarmored man in half at the waist. But it did not. Tirado's ornamented armor proved surprisingly durable, and the axe clanged off harmlessly. It flew out of his hands, leaving Fado, gaping like a fool, staring at the implacable knight. He was coming to realize that the battle truly was hopeless. _His armor's too thick. I cannot defeat him like this, not with these other men all around me… ah, well. There's no point in playing defensive now. _

Howling a battle cry, Fado grabbed his axe back off the floor and charged at Tirado again. Tirado, almost casually, lifted his lance and speared Fado through his abdomen, cutting through a weak join there.

Fado gasped in pain, blood trickling from the corners of his mouth. "Take it out. Please… take it out." Tirado pulled his lance out, and left the room, his face unreadable. Plainly, it was not worth it for him to hear his opponents dying words. A man who could not do that was a man with no honor.

"Eirika, Ephraim… you must survive…" Fado rasped, as he closed his eyes for the last time.

**A/N: Yeah, so this is going to be a pretty big expansion of the plot. I always wondered exactly what Fado did when they stormed the castle… go out in a blaze of glory, eh? **** I also made Tirado the leader of the forces who attacked Renais to make it a bit more personal. **


	2. Chapter 1: The Moonstone

**CHAPTER ONE: The Moonstone**

**Atuhor's Nose: OK guys, I've decided not to use dialogue from the game from now on. You want that, go play it. But then, you should be doing that anyway, cause it's awesome**

Two horses charged across the fields, which were by now stained red and littered with the bodies of Renais Castle's defenders. The magnificent white stallion in the lead carried Seth, his eyes fixed straight ahead. Eirika set behind him, her arms tightly wrapped around his waist, squeezed shut against the wind. Seth's squire Franz followed behind them, on his rather smaller chestnut mare. Not much older than Eirika, this was obviously Franz's first taste of real war, and his wide blue eyes were fearful.

Once they had reached the mouth of the mountain pass to the Frelian border at Mulan, having thankfully avoided any encounters with Grado's troops, Seth turned to the young squire. "Franz, listen to me. Ride ahead of us on to Frelia and warn King Hayden of our arrival. A single rider will be easily overlooked by Grado's men."

Franz saluted, his hand trembling. "At once, General Seth." He spurred his horse into a gallop.

Eirika watched him ride off into the distance, his horse kicking up clouds of dust. "Seth, I don't doubt your battle prowess, but don't you think you should have sent someone a bit more… seasoned… to deliver this message?"

Seth frowned. "And who would you have me select, Your Highness? The Knights of the Crown are much depleted lately. Far be it from me to speak ill of your father and his choices, but not a man of them is equal to the knights of old. There's only three of them I'd trust with a task like this, and they're off with Ephraim doing god-knows-what in Grado. Besides, Franz is a good man. I wouldn't have taken him to squire for me if he wasn't."

"Oh, is he, now?" said a high-pitched, raspy voice from behind them.

Eirika and Seth turned to see the source of the voice. A tall man with a skeletal figure, dressed in dented purple armor. His skin was deathly pale, but for the dark smudges under his eyes. He wore his long, dull blue hair loose. Next to him stood… _A wyvern. God be praised, that's a wyvern._ A great beast, at least twice the size of Seth's horse, armored in smooth purple scales, with a saddle strapped onto its back around its belly. Its cold yellow eyes glinted with hunger, and its paws and lower jaw were smeared with blood.

The man bowed to Eirika mockingly. "Such a pleasure to meet you, Princess Eirika of Renais." He moved towards her, the soles of his feet seeming not to touch the ground, and stroked Eirika's cheek with the back of one hand. Eirika shuddered. He smelled of rotting leaves. "My, but you're a pretty one. It almost makes me regret the necessity of killing you. When you arrive in the afterlife, tell your God Valter the Moonstone sent you there."

"Moonstone? Weren't you stripped of that title? Looks like somebody wants to make himself look important." Seth drew his sword from his scabbard. "Well, go on, then. Fight me if you want to, Sir Valter."

"And why should I dirty my own hands? What am I riding a wyvern for, if not for fighting? Din-dins, Fili! Nice piece of horse meat!" Valter said in the voice a normal man would use to talk to a playful kitten, stroking the wyvern's smooth-scaled head. The wyvern let out a low rumble of pleasure as it rubbed its head against Valter's chest. "Oh… but leave the girl alive. I'd like to talk to her later at my leisure."

Seth took this opportunity to charge at the wyvern. Eirika noticed only one thing.

"Where's Valter?" Eirika shouted. He seemed to have disappeared into the trees.

Seth stopped his attack, gaping in surprise. Valter was nowhere to be seen. He shrugged. "We'll deal with him later! I'll tackle this beast. You go on. Even if I die, you must survive!" Setting his mouth in a firm line, he hacked at the wyvern's long, whip-like neck. The wyvern dodged out of the way, surprisingly nimble for its bulk, and flew up into the air. Seth and the wyvern paced in circles, sizing each other up, before the wyvern folded its wings and went into a dive.

The wyvern crashed directly into Seth, knocking him to the ground. The paladin gasped, and looked up into the wyvern's eyes. Almost casually, the wyvern raked one six-inch talon across his cheek. Seth lost his composure, and let out a blood-curdling scream.

Eirika could not stand for that. She could not stand by and let the wyvern kill Seth. Surveying the battlefield, she came up with one last-ditch plan. An archer defending the castle had fallen not far from where they were fighting, and his bow was still intact. A few arrows stuck out of the ground nearby. Eirika had heard tales from her old nursemaid. _It's something built into their brains. Ancient memories… the bow was the only thing that could kill them… _grabbed the bow off the corpse, wincing at the feel of the blood that soaked the wood, and held it up to the wyvern.

"Get back, you great ugly brute!" she shouted, drawing the bow as if she was about to loose the arrow. It seemed the tales had some truth in them, for the wyvern suddenly stopped its attack, got off Seth, and turned towards Eirika, stock-still. Its eyes were wide and fearful. Eirika felt a momentary rush of relief that it had worked, but not for long. She had no skill with a bow, and the wyvern's fear could not control it forever. She could only hope that the wyvern would remain still for long enough that it would give Seth time to escape.

Eirika inched backwards, still pointing the arrow towards the wyvern. Her hands shook from the strain of pulling the bow. Seth, his eyes still locked on the wyvern's, seemed to understand what she was trying to do. Getting to his feet, the blood pouring down his face in a crimson river, he ran off down the mountain path. The rush of gratitude that Eirika felt that Seth had survived was soon replaced with terror. What was she to do now that she was alone with a wyvern?

She loosed the shot. The wyvern screamed, even as the arrow went wide, thudding into the ground nowhere near it. With no time to think, Eirika threw the bow away and dived into the river that ran parallel to the mountain path, going under briefly before managing to get her head above the water. She could swim fairly well, but the current was dragging her down, plastering her teal hair against her face. The wyvern roared, took to the skies once more, and soared after the two.

Seth ran after her, running in an awkward posture and struggling to keep ahead of the wyvern. The wyvern opened its great jaws, which could have encircled Seth's head easily, but just as it was about to lunge at the paladin, he ducked into a knot of trees, thick enough that it could not fly through. As soon as the current dragged Eirika over to the trees, about to go under again, Seth grabbed her hand and pulled her to the riverbank. The two of them were safe, for now. The wyvern hissed, and flew away.

It was then that Valter reappeared, cackling with glee. "Good girl! You've feasted well, haven't you, my pretty… what?" Valter seemed to respond to some unspoken communication from the wyvern. "Failed to kill them, Fili? You disappoint me sometimes." Fili let out an ambiguous grunt, and shifted her wings with a great rustling sound. She jerked her head in the direction Eirika and Seth had fled.

"Let them pass. It makes for better sport that way." Valter smirked, mounting Fili once more. "Now, that castle, on the other hand, that's an easy target. What say we go for a few Knights of the Crown? Sweet, plump noble flesh…" Fili hissed, and took

off, heading for Renais Castle.

The two of them walked for a few more hours, through the mountain pass. Walls of brown stone rose high above their heads, hardy green shrubs clinging to them, the river running merrily beside them. It was not a long road, but Seth's injury slowed him down considerably. Eirika's dress was so soaked it was almost transparent, and clung to her indecently. Seth was fairly obviously averting his eyes.

As soon as they'd got a good distance from the wyvern, Seth collapsed against the side of the mountain. "Your Highness, I can go no further today. I need to treat this injury, and it'll be dark soon."

Eirika sat down next to him. "I understand. What happened to you?"

"I think the weight of that beast cracked my rib. It's not the kind of injury I can cure with a simple field dressing – I'll need to see a healer when we get to Frelia, and soon. The cut on my face… it's long, but shallow. I'll live, but I fear the ladies of Renais will be flocking to me no more." He smiled. "Still, it makes one look impressive. Warrior-like. Remember when Gerik came to visit Renais Castle?"

Eirika nodded, reflecting on that happier time in the castle, watching Seth as he soaked a rag and began to clean the blood from his face and neck. But now was not the time for reflection. "The two of you seem to know each other. What do you know about Valter?"

"Valter, well, he's an interesting character. There's men who don't know they're evil. There's men who know they're evil, and don't like it. Valter's a special kind of evil. He knows he's evil… and he doesn't care. I won't even tell you what he'd have done with you if he'd taken you alive. All I can say is, you'd wish he'd fed you to his wyvern."

Seth bound a bandage about his head, encircling his jaw, and rifled through his pack. "I, ah, I brought you this." He produced a rapier from the depths of the pack, its hilt encrusted with jewels.

Eirika gasped. "You got my rapier for me?"

"I thought you might need to defend yourself." Seth looked up, and saw three men clambering down the hill, clinging to the rocks. "Speak of the devil."

Soon enough, the three men made it down to the bottom of the hill. Three big, brutish men, with long hair and thick beards, dressed in little more than rags and carrying axes slung over their shoulders. Only one of them, who seemed to be the leader, wore any armor, a battered, ill-fitting red iron helmet. It was rather too big for him, and obscured his hairline and one of his eyes, but his face, with its bulbous, broken nose and stubble-covered jaw, was familiar enough.

Eirika sniffed. "Well, well, well. If it isn't the infamous O'Neill. Didn't Lyon have you thrown in jail for banditry a couple of years ago?"

"Changed his mind." O'Neill gave Eirika a lopsided, snag-toothed grin, and hefted his axe – a big, cruel-looking slab of black iron. "For an invasion like this, Grado needs all the help it can get. And if that help is in the form of ugly buggers like me, well, I ain't gonna be the first to complain."

"Lyon? He wouldn't stand for this. You'd be caught and damn well hung…" Seth was interrupted by one of the bandits bearing down on him. He scrambled to his feet, drawing his sword with lightning speed and parrying the bandit's blow. Soon enough, the bandit lay bleeding on the floor as Seth prepared to deliver the killing blow. He may have been able to hold his own, but that left Eirika alone with two bandits, both of them hungry for blood. A wild, desperate strength surged through her as she lunged at O'Neill.

O'Neill wore no armor, and the rapier pierced his throat easily. Hacking terribly, O'Neill staggered backwards and fell, his ruined throat making it impossible for him to even cry out.

Eirika stood in shock for a while. _I've killed a man. This isn't one of the games Ephraim and Lyon played with wooden swords as boys. This is war. Ephraim, wherever you are, I hope you understand that too. _She took a deep breath in, trying desperately to regain her royal composure as the last bandit came screaming at her. She dodged the wild swing of his axe, and thrust her rapier into the back of his neck. Like O'Neill, he bled, screamed, fell motionless.

Seth wiped the blood off his blade on a patch of grass. "I swear, once this war's over, I'll have some stiff words for Lyon. Letting bandits roam free again… he needs to answer for that."

Eirika was lost in thought, her chin resting in her hand. "I don't believe this is Lyon's doing. He's not the type to let the likes of Valter and O'Neill roam free again. Come to think of it, neither is Vigarde. There's something else at play here, and whatever it is, I don't like the smell of it."

She looked off into the middle distance. "War's been coming a long time, now that I think about it. Pablo's uprising in Carcino, those bandits in south Renais… how was our army so unprepared?" She took a deep breath, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. "I thought I knew what fighting was. I never realized it would be so…"

"Brutal?" Seth said, laying one gauntleted hand on her shoulder softly. "I know the feeling. You know what I did after I killed my first man? Vomited everywhere. Garcia laughed his head off at that, at least until I threw up on his new boots. This proves, Your Highness, that you have a stronger stomach than I."

Eirika chuckled bitterly. She felt like throwing up herself. Seth shouldered his pack and grunted at its weight. "We'd best get moving. If any more of Grado's men got to us here, we'd be sitting ducks."

Eirika nodded her assent. She slung one of his arms about her shoulders for support – it was obvious that even standing pained him. The two of them, now afoot, crossed the bridge and headed deeper into the gathering gloom.


End file.
